


Apple Pie

by spiralnebulaM31



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Year (Once Upon a Time), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralnebulaM31/pseuds/spiralnebulaM31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin finds an apple pie and looks for the Queen who baked it. Surprises are on his way and things get more serious than he had imagined. Missing Year AU, slow burn Outlaw Queen with a touch of Snow Queen and Dimples Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story started with the prompt for the seventh day of the third Outlaw Queen Week on Tumblr and it has now taken a life of its own!

A sweet, but unrecognizable scent invades Robin's nostrils as he patrols the dark corridors of the castle, and he follows it with curiosity. He has been living in the Queen's castle for a few days, along with his son, his Merry Men and the people they have found in the forest, and almost every meal has been a surprise for him. Granny Lucas has taken on cooking duties and Robin can tell that the food they've been eating has been inspired by the life the dark curse had created for his new allies in another realm. Roland is impressed by the variety of flavors and Robin can't help but wonder what is being cooked somewhere in the castle right now. Making Roland happy is Robin's number one priority and if another delicious meal makes his son grin and squeal with joy, then Robin has to find it and take it to the little boy.

It's late at night and the castle is silent. Robin's boots on the stone floor echo in the deserted corridors and his shadow on the walls looks much larger than the actual size of his body. He clutches his arrow, prepared to deal with any threat that might come his way. No one has gotten into any kind of danger since the Wicked Witch left after her confrontation with the Queen, but everyone has been on high alert in case the green witch, or one of her minions, decides to reappear.

Robin reaches a wooden door where the intoxicating aroma is apparently coming from. The door is half open and when he looks inside, he realizes that it's another kitchen, much smaller than the one he has seen Granny use. Robin assumes that it was probably the servants' kitchen, back when the Queen lived permanently in the castle. He slips into the room, looking around for a sign from the person who has just used it.

No one is there. A pie sits on one of the counters and the way it looks reminds Robin of the delicious blueberry pie he had for breakfast a couple of days ago. There's a basket full of apples in a corner of the room and it's not difficult for Robin to imagine that the pie is filled with apples instead of berries and the Queen herself has baked it.

Everyone inside the castle's walls has avoided eating apples. People talk about the Queen a lot. It's said that she sits under an old apple tree, always sad and pensive, and no one but Snow White approaches her. A lot of surprised gasps were out of the Merry Men's mouths when they heard that. They are aware of the story of the poisoned apple the Queen had given to Snow White and that makes them worry about the Princess.

Robin, on the other hand, is not worried about the younger woman. He's worried about the Queen instead. He hasn't seen her at all since the rest of their people have joined them in the castle, but her state that night, and their brief conversations, were enough to give him a glimpse of the woman hiding behind the Queen's mask.

There are some ingredients that have been used on the other counter of the kitchen and it's obvious to Robin that the Queen was preparing a second apple pie. He wonders what made her leave the kitchen in a hurry. He believes there's no danger in the castle's grounds; there are guards everywhere and if there was an attack, he's certain the night wouldn't be as silent as it is now. Besides, from what he's seen and heard from her, he knows that the Queen could be the first to try to stop a possible attack at her home.

**::::::**

Robin finds the Queen close to the small kitchen, in the middle of another empty corridor. She jumps when she hears his steps on the staircase that leads to the corridor, gasping audibly, seemingly in surprise that another person is there during the night. Robin can't make out her face in the darkness, her body being slightly turned away from him. He notices that she's breathing quickly and looking down. Her posture reminds Robin of that night when they were the only ones in the castle – that's what they had thought, because it turned out that the Wicket Witch was there as well – and Regina was about to use a sleeping curse on herself. Robin notices his mental switch, from using the impersonal "Queen" moniker to using her name in his mind, and it feels right, because as he approaches her a little more, the expression he sees on her face is one of a broken woman. The Queen is not there anymore. The Evil Queen hasn't been there at all since he has met her, Robin knows that. Regina, the woman who is grieving her son, and helps to protect everyone in the castle even if the only reason she has been doing that so far is to destroy the Wicked Witch, is the one turning her head to face him.

Regina looks at him with eyes full of rage and Robin sees tears brimming from their edges, making the image before him sorrowful rather than scary. A frown appears on Regina's face when she realizes who has approached her, and she asks, "What are you doing here, thief?"

Her voice sounds strong, but there's a slight tremble that Robin doesn't miss. Taking a step closer he's about to ask her about the pie, when he notices her hands holding something. She makes a quick move to hide it, but Robin doesn't fail to see the red shine that comes from the strange object. He thinks it's another spell; some kind of potion Regina was about to use now that she was alone in the calmness of the night.

"Regina," Robin begins, and in the next moment she turns her whole body towards him and she's glaring at him, her eyes fierce and her hand holding what it now appears to be a human heart. Robin's eyes widen in shock. He has never seen one before, but he has heard about them and has seen illustrations in some of the books he had found in the Dark One's castle.

"That's right, thief. That's a heart. A human heart," Regina says, furious, bringing the heart in front of Robin's face. "What are you going to do about it? Are you going to try to find out who it belongs to? Who I took it from? Are you going to tell everyone how e _vil_ I still am? Go ahead."

Robin is taken aback by her outburst and he instinctively leans back, away from the beating organ. Regina rolls her eyes and Robin realizes that what she just said was what she expects people to believe about her. What she expects  _him_ to believe about her. But Robin has seen another side of her and, although it's easy to suspect her – it wouldn't be the first time – he knows that since she has returned to this world, she hasn't hurt anyone apart from herself.

He wonders why he has such faith in this bold and audacious woman, since he doesn't really know her. In a way, he sees a part of himself in her. He remembers his own sins, the darkness pulling him down until he found a fraction of hope that made him believe in himself again. Losing that tiny, almost non-existent, piece of hope repeatedly can be devastating, he can imagine that, and from what Regina has told him, he assumes that that's what has happened to her.

"Is that your heart?" he asks quietly. It's a question he already knows the answer to. The heart is covered by a lot of black, but there's some unmistakable red that shines through the darkness. Robin guesses the red represents her love for her son and the good Snow White has mentioned that Regina has already done.

Regina stares into Robin's eyes without blinking. Her fingers appear to be clutching the heart tightly and Robin's own heart is hammering in his chest at the thought that she might be about to hurt herself in a way much worse than the sleeping curse would.

Regina finally looks down, her hand that's holding the heart falling limply to her side. "It's not the first time I'm taking it out," she says. Robin waits for her to continue. "I take it out every night. Each night it stays out longer, making me feel the need to bury it in the forest," she says, looking at the vital organ in her hands like she's offended by it. "Or crush it."

"Regina, put your heart back in your chest," Robin says as calmly as he can manage. Helping someone in need is second nature to him and Regina looks like she needs it even more than she did during their first night in the castle.

Regina shakes her head. "No," she says, her voice breaking.

Robin isn't sure if her reluctance comes from her will to hurt herself or from a place deep in her heart that doesn't exist in her now that her heart isn't inside her body.

"Do you feel less pain without it?" he asks hesitantly. If he wants to help her, he has to find a way to do so; he has to find the appropriate words to say to her.

"It feels slightly less intense now. But as the time passes... You get numb," Regina says, not taking her eyes away from her heart.

"So, you won't feel pain," Robin starts.

"That's the point," Regina interrupts him.

"But you won't feel anything else either," Robin completes his thought.

Regina scoffs. "That's what Snow said."

"Snow was right," Robin concludes, wondering how many times the Princess has found Regina in this condition.

"Snow had better care only about her Prince Charming and leave me alone. And you'd better do the same," Regina says, and Robin is about to tell her that he's not going to go away leaving her like that, when a loud swish of wings is heard from the top of the staircase.

It all happens in a few seconds. Robin turns around, grabbing an arrow from the bag that's hanging from his shoulder, and prepares his bow for an attack. He hears Regina gasp from behind him and he panics for a moment, thinking there's an attack from the other side of the corridor as well, before realizing that she must have put her heart back in her chest in a hurry, and that's why she released that pained breath. He keeps looking ahead while Regina is coming to stand beside him. Robin feels a familiar warmth and from the corner of his eye he can see the fireball she has created.

They're standing side by side, both ready to not only defend themselves, but also attack the enemy, while the wings that move through the air sound like they're coming closer and closer.

The flying beast finally comes into sight.

After seeing the threat, Robin is too stunned to move and judging from her body that remains still beside him, he knows Regina feels the same way. He lowers his bow only after the two owls fly over their heads and disappear in the darkness behind them.

"It's funny what something that small and harmless sounds like in the silence of the night," Robin says, turning to look at Regina. She has lowered her weapon as well; no fire is coming out of her palm anymore. Her brows are drawn together in a frown and a single tear has fallen on her left cheek. Robin tries to imagine the intensity of emotions she must have felt once her heart was back in its right place, followed by the adrenaline of the supposable attack and the surprising relief.

"I didn't know my castle had turned into Hogwarts while I was gone," Regina says with a sigh, her expression relaxing a little. She looks at Robin who is confused. He doesn't say anything; he only lifts a questioning brow and Regina's eyes widen, before she vanishes in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Unbelievable," Robin mutters. He begins walking back to the kitchen to see if that's where Regina has gone. If she is not there, he might take a few pieces of apple pie anyway.

Robin finds the door open, as he had left it, and Regina inside the kitchen. She's leaning above one of the counters, shaping a ball of dough that had been apparently left untouched for quite some time.

"Beware; it's an  _apple_  pie," she says, probably sensing his presence at the doorway, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Is that why it smells so good?" Robin asks and earns a bewildered look from Regina instead of a verbal reply. He enters the room and takes a few steps in order to face her.

"You're obviously aware that most people here don't find the idea of eating apples that enjoyable. Why are you making apple pies then? Just for you?" Robin asks, hoping to get an actual answer this time.

"I find cooking quite relaxing," Regina says, her tone friendlier than before. "And like you said,  _most_ people wouldn't eat these pies. But Snow always liked them. Maybe she will want to taste them," she adds in a hushed tone, keeping her eyes on the dough.

"Ahh, I see. I have something to confess, your Majesty," Robin says, attempting to give a lighter tone to the conversation. He watches Regina's face take an unreadable expression after hearing the formal title coming from his mouth.

"Go on," she says indifferently.

"I was determined to steal some of your apple pie if I hadn't found you here."

"Of course you were. You are a thief. Sleeping under a real roof and thinking you're helping Snow White and the Un-Charming can't change that," Regina retorts and Robin finds himself unable to hide his smirk. Regina insulting him is a thousand times better than her satisfying her suicidal urges.

"Do you think that's funny?" she asks, her voice revealing the weariness she must be feeling.

"Not at all," Robin answers in a serious tone. "I'd better get going then," he says and starts walking towards the door.

"Wait, Robin," Regina calls him by his real name for the first time and Robin had definitely not expected that. "You can take some pie with you," she says. "For Roland," she adds when she sees Robin's sincere smile.

She wipes her hands with a towel and goes around the counter, close to the fireplace, where the already baked apple pie is. She cuts two generous slices of the baked good and places them in a small plate. She hands Robin the plate without looking into his eyes and he understands that she has already given him a lot of what's going on inside her head. He has caught her in a vulnerable moment and the Queen is not willing to give anything else of herself tonight.

Robin takes the apple pie, thanks her and leaves the kitchen. He tastes the pie, and if he waits in the darkness at the end of the corridor to see her walking away from the door with her hands full of the rest of the pie an hour later, it's because he wants to make sure her heart remains where it should be for another night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who has liked, followed or commented on the first chapter! It's been a long time and I apologize for that. I still intend to continue writing this story. I have no idea how frequent the updates will be, because there are some important thing happening in my real life, but I have an outline for this story, I love writing about the Missing Year and this is kind of an experiment for me in order to try to write an OQ multi-chapter story. Reviews or comments are always welcome and appreciated! Thank you Baba (Babatomyfriends @ ffnet) and Franzi (soligblomma @ ffnet and @ tumblr) for checking this chapter for me!

Excess brightness is the first thing that registers to Regina’s mind as she’s waking up. She tries to blink, but the light doesn’t let her.

She rolls on her bed, intending to face the other side of the room and hoping that the change will be friendlier to her irritated eyes.

She succeeds.

It takes her a few seconds to regain the ability to blink normally and awareness comes even more slowly. She gradually remembers all the details from the previous night and she wishes she could go back in time – even if she could only travel to just a minute ago when her main problem was the light of the morning sun.

Her head feels heavy when she attempts to sit up and she falls back on the sheets, lying on her back this time.

Regina realizes she can see more clearly now, even in the direction of the sunlight that is still too bright. That’s how she notices the piece of clothing she’s currently lying on. Her eyes fall to a hint of gray, something that doesn’t fit among her white sheets.

The last painful moment of her night returns vividly in the form of an unwanted memory and Regina brings her palm up to cover her face.

After making sure that the fire of the oven was out the night before, Regina left the kitchen without bothering to place the unused ingredients back to their right places. She thought she would probably want to get distracted by baking again; there was no point in wasting more energy – energy she didn’t feel she had anymore – to tidy a room used only by her.

A brief thought of the outlaw crossed her mind, but she dismissed it quickly. Just because they accidentally met close to the kitchen, it didn’t mean that they would meet there again or that he would look for her there.

Regina knew he had no reason to seek her out. She knew that the lines of worry she noticed on his forehead when she held her heart in her hands (she tells herself that he was worried about whoever he thought she had killed) and the kind expression in his eyes when she gave him the apple pie were nothing more than evidence of how noble – and maybe naïve – of a man Robin Hood was. Despite her worries that she had revealed some of her most well-hidden thoughts to him, she hoped that he, too, was aware that her business wasn’t his business.

Their eventful meeting in the hallway was the first time Regina saw the thief after that first night in the castle, and she wished it would also be the last; she didn’t need anyone breathing down her neck every moment of every day like Snow was trying to do. Regina was better off alone in her room, the small kitchen, her secret library or the balcony where her apple tree was still standing, parts of the palace most people were too scared to approach.

Regina started walking in the dark hallway, knowing that using her magic to move herself directly into her bed chambers wasn’t worth it. Her exhaustion would either lead her to the wrong place or make her crash into a wall. She didn’t care if she hurt herself, but her hands were full of apple pie and she didn’t want to risk destroying it.

Every step felt heavy on her feet and echoed in the empty corridors.

She reached her room after what felt like hours, thankful that no one seemed to have been awake to witness the state she was in. She didn’t bother looking in her full-length mirror, but judging from the dizziness she felt, she was sure she looked pale enough for someone to think she was becoming a ghost.

But wasn’t that all she was, really?

She was only memories, distant and yet so vivid memories of a time brighter than anything else in her entire life. Memories and a lost soul, not likely to find her way ever again.

After the door closed silently behind her, she put the pies on a side table. She forced herself to take off her clothes, knowing that the tightness of her corset wouldn’t allow her to breathe properly once she lay down. It wasn’t easy; each garment that fell on the floor let chilly puffs of air touch her newly exposed skin and even the nightgown she wore left her body cold and uncomfortable. She completed the task manually in order to preserve her magic for something more important, something that couldn’t be achieved in any other way.

After she lay on her silky sheets, she waited for a couple of minutes to let her body get used to the foreign temperature of the previously untouched fabric. Anticipation ran through her body and she couldn’t be sure if she was trembling because of the cold or because of the thrill of feeling her son’s warm hug again.

Or at least something that resembled her son’s warm hug.

Because Henry wasn’t there. He didn’t even remember that she existed, and she had no way of reaching him. The only thing she had was a hoodie – identical to one of Henry’s favorite clothes – she magically created one night when having only memories had become unbearable. She needed something to touch to  _feel_  him close to her again.

Regina used the remnants of magic she still had in her and filled the piece of clothing with air, making it look like a balloon in the shape of a boy’s upper body. She dragged her hand across the hoodie, across what was supposed to be Henry’s stomach, and she hugged it to her safely, keeping her eyes closed so that the illusion she had managed to form in her head wouldn’t be ruined.

Now the hoodie lies deflated on the bed, half beneath her and half illuminated by the sun rays. Regina thinks that the situation resembles what has happened in reality: last night she crushed what was supposed to be Henry’s body just like she has crushed her own son’s life…

NO.

She will not let her mind wander into that direction again. Everything she did, she did it for Henry. She didn’t destroy his life. On the contrary, she improved it by giving him and Emma new memories. They’re living a normal life away from magic and fairytales, away from monsters and  _her_. She made everything better for him and that’s what’s keeping her alive, the thought that she finally managed to give her son the life he always deserved.

With the thought that Henry is indeed okay, she pulls herself up. Her weary body aches, her bones complaining at the simple act of sitting up on her bed, and she wonders if she’ll ever manage to get some decent rest in this godforsaken place.

She manages to drag herself out of bed and her eyes fall on the apple pies – a whole pie and another one missing a couple of pieces . Her late night kitchen activities started as a way to distract herself from the pain she felt, but she realized that the baked delicacy could also become some comfort food for Snow. Snow loved those apple pies when she was a little girl, and Regina knows that the princess needs that piece of normalcy now, something that will remind her of how simple her life was when she lived in this castle along with the King and her step-mother. Of course she will never admit that to Snow, she will never tell her that she understands how much her daughter’s absence hurts and that she thinks the apple pie might ease her pain.

Regina puts on a dress, getting frustrated with it, still not used to the Evil Queen’s wardrobe. But that’s who she is in this place and she doesn’t think she can change the way everyone sees her. She can’t expect them to see her differently when that’s how she sees herself.

Without Henry, every hope for her being someone better is gone and it will never come back. She has decided that she has to live with it and she follows the same routine every day. She makes herself look as royal as possible even if she makes sure that she doesn’t meet anyone in the castle.

When her hairdo is done – her magic was very helpful with that when she lost her patience – she takes the pie that is still whole and quietly leaves the room.

Now that she feels completely awake she realizes that it’s actually quite early in the morning. She must have slept for only a few hours once again. No wonder she hasn’t stopped feeling exhausted ever since they arrived at the Enchanted Forest.

The fact that it’s early has its advantages though. It means that everyone is either asleep or having breakfast at the dining room on the ground floor. It’s not probable that she will meet someone in the corridors and that thought makes her walk more freely, less worried of being heard.

She reaches her destination, not too far from her bed chambers.

She has no intention of interacting with anyone, so she just places the pie on the floor in front of the Charmings’ door and turns to leave.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Regina freezes at her spot, not having turned completely from the door. She would recognize the dwarf’s voice anywhere.

She hasn’t spoken to another person since her encounter with the outlaw the previous night and she finds it ironic that the first line spoken to her is similar to what he asked her when he first saw her.

It takes her a few seconds to make her facial characteristics appear neutral to prepare herself for the confrontation.

"That’s none of your business, Chief of the Dwarves," Regina says, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Of course it is. Snow’s safety is always our business," another dwarf says. It’s the one whose ridiculously happy smile Regina wishes she could wipe off his face. He takes a step forward to join Grumpy at the front of their group.

Regina scoffs. "And what are you? Her bodyguards?"

"We might not be fit to be Snow’s bodyguards, but we’re her protectors and we’re going to do whatever it takes to prevent you from poisoning her again," another dwarf says and steps ahead, his words followed by a loud sneeze.

Regina’s eyes widen in surprise, but she manages to cover it up quickly.

It hadn’t occurred to her that after all they’ve been through during the last few weeks, people still think she is going to harm Snow. Of course the dwarves weren’t with them when Regina was about to sacrifice herself for the safety of the town or in Neverland or during their private moments when Snow still tries to give endless hope speeches to her. Regina doesn’t like the company of the younger woman, but she definitely doesn’t want to poison her. Not anymore.

She doesn’t know what shocks her the most: the realization that Snow is safe in her hands or the fact that even now, after many long days with all of them living under the same roof, after Regina has done nothing to raise such suspicions, the dwarves think she wants Snow’s life to end.

After the moment of surprise, she goes back to glancing coldly at the dwarves and a deep laugh erupts from within her at her own stupidity. The dwarves’ suspicions shouldn’t have sounded that absurd to her. She reminds herself that those people will never stop believing that she’s still the Evil Queen, even if she tries to convince them otherwise. She doesn’t want them to think she is going to poison Snow though.

"I’m  _not_  going to do anything to Snow," she states. "Besides, this isn’t the only apple pie I’ve made. More people must have eaten it by now. Don’t you think the news would have already spread if someone had been poisoned?"

"Who tells us that you didn’t shut the mouths of the ones who tasted your apple pie once and for all?"

Suddenly she’s furious. She was used for her word to be taken seriously, for her orders to be followed right away in this castle, and now that she’s back, it feels like she has lost any authority that once was rightfully hers.

She feels sparkles of magic traveling to the edge of each of her fingers and she needs a lot of her self-control to keep it inside.

"Fine," she spats. "Just so you know, your princess would not be satisfied with that!"

Regina isn’t sure what she says is true, but she has to sound absolute to the dwarves.

With a wave of her hand, she disappears along with the pie. She appears in her bed chambers, the pie resting on her open palm. She looks at it with disdain, recognizing her fault in attempting to make a move to comfort Snow.

When she lived in this castle as a young Queen, Regina thought that she would never feel lonelier than she did when she spent entire days and nights without speaking to anyone. How wrong she had been… She got lonelier and lonelier as the time went by and this feeling is creeping up inside her now more than ever.

She lets out a scream and throws the pie across the room, the ceramic baking tray breaking into pieces and the delicacy spreading on the floor. Her skin is still itching with unused magic and she sets fire to all the pieces of the pie, burning the one she cut for the thief as well, the flames that erupt from within her resulting in a strangely comforting release.

Her head is spinning. She reaches into her chest instinctively, the physical pain nothing compared to the way her soul aches.

A bird flies though the window straight into the room, landing softly on the floor.

It’s a dove.

And it’s a reminder.

It’s life.

Could it be hope?

Regina drags her hand away from her vital organ. A sole tear falls from her right eye at the realization that not taking her heart out feels right.

After all, ripping her heart out has become an activity for the night.

**::::::**

The castle’s dining room is crowded during dinner time, a little too crowded for Robin’s liking. Someone is missing though. It’s the one person who is never there, at least not when everybody else is. Robin hasn’t seen Regina for nearly two days, since the night he ran into her in the dark deserted corridor. Not that he met her often before, but this time something feels different, wrong.

He looks around the room, trying to spot the princess. Snow is sitting next to her husband. She’s picking at her food, not paying attention to the conversations around her. She looks lost, the light having left her eyes, and Robin wonders if something has happened, something no one but her knows about.

He leaves Roland with his Merry Men and approaches Snow.

"Good morning," Robin greets her, getting a reply from David instead.

Snow looks at Robin absentmindedly and nods.

"Is something troubling you, m’lady?"

It’s obvious that something is troubling her and the last thing Robin wants is to make the situation even worse by voicing his thoughts about the Queen.

"It's nothing important," Snow says.

Robin is not convinced. He's filled with curiosity and an urge to help – at least that's what he tells himself, because he's not ready to admit that for some unfathomable reason he's worried about Regina.

"Has something happened to Regina?" He can't stop himself from asking after a few more moments of silence.

Snow's breath hitches, her distress apparent to everyone around her. She clears her throat and tries to hide the sadness from her eyes.

"It's nothing, really. I thought I could give Regina some hope, a reason to fight. I thought I would be able to help her," Snow says. "But I was wrong. She can't be helped," she finishes in a determined tone.

"Are you certain? What about the apple pie?" Robin asks, trying to find an indication that Snow's assumption is invalid. The woman he saw the other night can't be a lost cause.

"What apple pie?" Snow asks, evidently confused.

Several people from the closest tables have turned their heads towards them.

One of the dwarves scoffs from across the table.

"He's talking about the apple pie the Evil Queen would have used to poison you with if it weren't for us," Grumpy says and the rest of the dwarves nod emphatically.

Snow looks at them incredulously.

"That can't be true, Grumpy," David says with a hint of doubt in his voice.

"That is certainly not true. She gave me some apple pie as well, which I shared with my son."

"Yes, the apple pie was tasty!" Roland says cheerfully, appearing next to his father as if out of nowhere.

Robin takes the little boy into his arms, swooping him off the ground and holding him on his hip.

"It was, my boy, wasn't it?"

Roland nods with a smile and hides his face into Robin's neck when he realizes that everyone is looking at him.

"And as everyone can see, neither my son nor I have been poisoned," Robin says, earning a look of disbelief from the dwarves and most of the people around them. “Snow, Regina made the pies two nights ago. Have you seen her since then?” he asks, this time internally accepting his concern for the Queen, since it seems to be rightfully reasonable.

"No. That's why I believed..." Snow leaves her thought unfinished, but it's not difficult for everyone to figure out what happened. "Why didn't you let her come to me?" She snaps at the dwarves, shooting an angry look in their direction.

"We only wanted to protect you, your Majesty," Grumpy says apologetically.

David places a hand on Snow's shoulder and that seems to do the trick. Snow relaxes, taking a few deep breaths.

"Of course you did, Grumpy. I'm sorry," she says, meaning every word. She squeezes David's hand and stands up. "I'm going to find Regina."

Her words are definitive and no one objects to them.

The crowd slowly scatters. The residents of the castle return to their seats and continue their breakfast.

"You gave Roland something she made. Something with apples. What's wrong with you, Robin?" Little John whispers to Robin once he and Roland are sitting at the Merry Men's table again.

"There is nothing wrong with me, like there was nothing wrong with the apple pie, Little John."

"Papa, I really liked the apple pie!" Roland says. It seems to Robin that this morning the little boy hears everything, despite the fact that his father doesn't want him involved in such situations.

Little John stares at Robin with disbelief and Robin avoids his friend's eyes.

"Papa, where did her Majesty find the apples?" Roland asks.

"She took them from her apple tree," Robin answers, his voice soft and quiet when talking to his son.

An inaudible "oh" forms on Roland's lips. Robin can't help but laugh at his reaction. Sometimes kids get excited with the simplest of things and coming from his son, that excitement is beyond adorable to him.

"What do you say we go check that tree out?" Robin asks. His idea is spontaneous and only after he's said it out loud does he realize what he has actually suggested.

"Yes!" Roland is already on his feet, even if he doesn't know where the tree is, and Robin stands up to follow him.

"Wait, Roland, you haven't finished your breakfast," Robin scolds him, but the boy is already at the door, so the man takes a few long steps to catch up to him, ignoring Little John's disapproving expression.

Roland has slowed down and he's walking beside Robin. Together they go up the stairs, towards a part of the castle Robin has never been before. He has no idea what made him bring Roland to that place. It might be to satisfy his own curiosity about the royal quarters. It might be his hope to meet the Queen again and make sure she is alright.

This floor has a different layout from the rest of the castle, but Robin can easily figure out where the exits for the balconies are. Holding Roland's hand in his own, he looks at one balcony and when he doesn't find anything, he moves to the next.

He enters a larger space, a balcony that looks like a yard of some sort. It's exactly how he has heard people describing it. He can almost hear their hushed words in between the corridors.  _An extravagant royal space where the Evil Queen keeps her apple tree, full of big red tempting apples. She sits under its shadow for hours, gazing at the sky, definitely plotting her next deathly move._

The apple tree is right there, in the middle of the yard.

"Papa, where are the apples?" Roland asks with a frown.

The apples are nowhere to be seen and neither is the Queen. Only green leaves remain to decorate the long tangled branches.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: depression symptoms. A big thank you to Franzi (soligblomma) for checking this chapter and giving me her opinion in some important matters. Also, thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited and left comments for this story.

Regina is livid. She’s pacing back and forth in her bed chambers, trying to make a decision. Her feet, only covered by thin dark socks, burn, but she can’t stop.

She would give anything to have a treadmill like the one she used to have in her mansion in Storybrooke. As a mayor she did nothing but sit behind her desk almost every day for twenty eight years. Of course Henry’s presence had changed that and she often found herself chasing after her little boy, laughing and playing until they were both exhausted. But even then, running on her treadmill was a habit that helped her release her pent up frustration when her office days were long and difficult.

Now that she has magic again, not using all the energy that she feels inside is torture. Not talking to anyone for days doesn’t help, although she’s loath to admit it. Sometimes she even misses Archie and their sessions.

She turns around to keep pacing furiously on her imaginary walking track and feels a wave of nausea blurring her vision and her thoughts. She attempts to not pay any attention to it and keeps walking, but her body has other plans. Suddenly she’s unable to remain standing, her hand searching blindly for something to hold on to. The next moment finds her sitting on the cold stone floor, her back curved in a weird angle and the skirts of her dress sprawled around her legs and waist. Her hand is clutching the bedspread which she has pulled with her and is now rumbled beside her, half on the floor, half still on the bed.

Only when she moves to stand up again does Regina realize that her shoulder is hurt. She lets the bedspread fall from her hand and examines it as best as she can. Her dress is torn and there’s an ugly cut on her skin, probably caused by the pointy edge of her nightstand. She curses her luck and ignores the cut. It’s not the worst pain she has felt anyway.

She’s panting from the effort she makes to move and she’s angry with herself just like she is with everyone else. Maybe she’s been angry only with herself all this time, she thinks. She hates that she has to be away from her son, that she has to justify herself to everyone, but right now what she hates the most is that she has to feed her body in order to stay alive for a life she doesn’t want to live.

She wants to scream – something she’s done repeatedly in the last couple of days – but her throat feels sore and dry, and she can’t even swallow her spit without wincing in pain. She eyes the empty jug on a nearby table and groans in frustration.

When was the last time she had some water?

The fact that she doesn’t even remember should alarm her, but it makes her hate herself even more instead.

Her breaths are shallow and sweat covers her forehead, making her shiver. She pulls the rest of the bedspread down to her and wraps it around her aching body. Her last thought before sleep takes her is that she’s grateful no one is there to see her that weak.

**::::::**

The next time Regina opens her eyes darkness envelopes the room and it’s raining. The grey clouds and the occasional lightning are the only source of light. Regina creates a fireball easily and sends it to the wick of a few candles around her bed chamber. The soft light illuminates the entire room and reminds Regina of the state she was in before she fell asleep. She curses under her breath, but after having slept the day away she has enough strength to stand up, and she need to do so soon, because the sting in her throat is almost unbearable.

She rushes to the table, ignoring the dried blood on her shoulder threatening to pull the cut apart when she moves, and picks up the jug. She goes to the edge of the balcony, where the ceiling doesn’t reach, and lets the water fill the jug, and wet her clothes and skin. She thinks about the freshness of the rainwater in the Enchanted Forest, unpolluted and _delicious_ , and she can’t wait to drink it. She brings the half-filled jug to her cracked lips and takes the first sip. The cool vital liquid touches her throat and Regina feels its journey inside her body, through parts of her that need a reminder of how alive she actually is.

She finishes her water slowly and exposes the jug to the rain again. She stays outside for a few minutes, letting nature wash away her body’s smell after more than two days of not taking a bath.

She goes inside and cringes at the site of her bed chambers. That is not fit for a queen. And despite the fact that she doesn’t feel like a queen, she has always liked order, it was something that made her feel like she could have control over something, and she won’t let that one small part of her world be destroyed, too.

With a measured wave of her hand the bed is made and clean, her clothes are off and a wet wash cloth is in her hand. She leaves the jug on the table, and uses the wet cloth to wash the parts of her body previously covered by her dress. She spends additional time on her shoulder – the gush from her fall is a little deeper than she expected – cleaning the wound thoroughly before putting on a clean dress, one of her most comfortable loungewear outfits. Her hair is disheveled and wet, but with another wave of her hand, she makes it dry and lets it loose.

She looks around and checks if anything else is out of place. That’s when she notices the apples stacked in a corner. She sighs and internally scolds herself. What had she done? In a moment of fury and self-doubt she went to her personal balcony and with a single touch of magic she pulled all the apples out of their stems. She wanted to destroy them, destroy all the evidence of who she used to be. But even though the red apples had come to be her signature weapon along with her fireballs, Regina knew that people wouldn’t trust her that easily, not just because she would have destroyed the apples that weren’t even poisoned. She ended up taking them all in her room – her childhood tree means too much to her to leave its fruit to get rotten and die.

Without thinking about it too much, Regina walks until she reaches the fruit filled corner and takes an apple. It looks inviting, but she takes the first bite tentatively. The texture feels strange in her mouth and her stomach is upset even before the chewed fruit travels through her gullet. Bile rises in her throat with every bite, but she manages to swallow it all until it’s gone and only the part with the seeds is in her hand. She throws it out of the balcony, careful not to make abrupt moves while she’s walking there and back into the room. Her stomach is unsettled as it is; she doesn’t need to make it angrier.

She contemplates her next move. She still has a decision to make. Before she’s able to consider her options, there’s a knock on the door. Regina’s head snaps towards the edge of the room and she frowns because every person in this realm is unwanted company to her.

“Regina?” Snow calls from behind the heavy doors.

Regina stands still in her place near the apple corner, not wanting to move a muscle in case Snow hears her.

“Regina! I know you’re in there!” Snow says, sounding urgent and panicked.

Regina lets out a frustrated sigh and wonders how Snow knows that she’s in there. She figures that the Princess is just saying that to get her to open the door, so she remains unmoving.

For a few minutes the only sound comes from the rain outside the castle. There’s stillness inside the room and as it appears, out in the corridor as well.

Regina begins walking to the nearest chair when loud bangs on the door make her jump. Startled from the sudden noise, Regina shouts “Go away!” and momentarily regrets revealing her presence in the room, wanting to keep Snow out whichever way she can.

“Regina, please, let me in!” Snow says, her tone calmer than before.

“No! Go away, Snow,” Regina says, her anger growing with every bang.

Regina imagines Snow’s fists hitting the wood, and wants to pull out the entire door and throw it to her. She grits her teeth, trying to keep her emotions in check, trying not to cry from frustration and not set her magic free.

Snow keeps knocking on the door, every now and then giving it a loud bang with her fist. She keeps calling Regina’s name and pleading with her to let her in.

All Regina wants is a few peaceful hours to be able to think. Her mind is already loud enough; she doesn’t need another source of anxiety.

“Snow, I said go AWAY!” Regina yells. When she hears Snow’s protests, she decides to throw a small fireball against the doorknob for good measure. Snow isn’t touching the metal of the handle anyway, she’s just banging on –

“Ouch!” Snow exclaims, the banging and her words finally stopping.

Regina’s eyes widen. She really didn’t want to hurt Snow.

“Are you alright?” Regina asks, her tone turning softer.

No answer.

Regina’s heart starts beating fast – was the fireball that strong?

She repeats the question.

Still no answer.

She walks to the door, touching the handle carefully. It’s still warm, leaving a tingling sensation on her skin, but it’s not hot enough to hurt.

Regina opens the door and looks at the woman, eyeing her up and down to check her body and clothing for possible injuries. There aren’t any. Just a bit of reddish skin on her right hand. Regina notices it when Snow brings both her arms up to reach for her. Regina steps back instinctively and Snow’s hands touch only the air between them.

“You pretended to be injured?” Regina asks, her anger returning along with an inexplicable feeling of hurt.

“I didn’t pretend, you just assumed I was hurt. And I was right,” Snow says with a ridiculously calm smile that Regina hates.

“About what?” she snarls, trying to put as much venom in her voice as she can master, while her heartbeat hasn’t returned to its regular rhythm yet.

“About you being worried about me,” Snow says, that infuriating smile never leaving her face.

Regina scoffs. “I was _not_ worried about you.”

“Okay. I was not worried about you either, that’s why I’m here.”

“What do you want Snow?” Regina asks with a sigh, her patience wearing thin and making her feel tired physically and emotionally.

“Can I come in?” Snow asks instead of replying.

Regina holds the door open for Snow to enter and then closes it behind her.

“Do you have any tea?” Snow asks, making herself comfortable in one of Regina’s chairs.

Regina rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t have tea. Only rainwater if you’re interested,” she says, gesturing to the jug and secretly hoping that Snow won’t have any of her water.

“Rainwater and apples, as it seems,” Snow says, a confused grimace replacing her smile. “What’s with all the apples, Regina?”

“That’s none of your business,” Regina says, masking her face into an indifferent expression. The only thing she wants is for Snow to leave her alone, but now that she’s in the room she won’t go away before giving one of her infamous “hope speeches”, Regina is sure of that.

“I know about the apple pie.”

That takes Regina by surprise.

“What do you mean?” Regina asks, curious about what Snow has to say for the first time since she started knocking on the door.

“Grumpy told me what happened. And then Robin said he and Roland ate your pie…”

“And you only believed it was harmless because the outlaw and his child weren’t poisoned? I could have poisoned only the pie that was meant for you. Or the thief could have a strong stomach after all that time living in his natural environment,” Regina says, her words dripping sarcasm.

“Regina… We both know that’s not true. I never believed you wanted to poison me with that pie, not even for a second,” Snow says.

Regina thinks that she sounds sincere and deep down she knows that’s the truth.

“You might not have believed that, but it crossed everyone else’s mind.”

“Not everyone else’s. You know there are people who believe in you, Regina,” Snow says, and before Regina manages to interrupt her she continues, “And even if they’re hesitant we can show them the truth. We can do it together,” Snow finishes with a hopeful smile.

Regina can’t have that. She can’t have hope that people will accept her, because she knows she will get disappointed. Besides, she doesn’t care about them. The only person whose opinion mattered to her was Henry and now he’s not there. Everyone else isn’t worth it. _She_ isn’t worth it.

And there’s still that decision that she has to make.

“We’re not doing anything together. That’s why you came here, right? To give me hope? To make me cooperate with you in your fruitless attempts to rule my kingdom?” Regina asks, not trying to hide the spite from her voice.

“You’re being unfair, Regina,” Snow says.

“You’re being insufferable, Snow,” Regina retorts.

“And if you still consider this kingdom as your kingdom, then why don’t you help us rule it?” Snow asks, ignoring Regina’s words.

“Because it is _my_ kingdom! Not yours to rule!”

“But you don’t seem to care about any of it, Regina!” Snow says, exasperated. “I know the pain you’re going through. Believe me, I do. And I can help you, we can help each other…”

“No. No one can help me,” Regina says, her eyes watering as she thinks about the reason she hurts and the anger turns to that hopelessness that doesn’t let her breath.

“Regina…” Snow says in a patronizing tone that makes Regina’s blood boil.

Trying to keep the tears at bay, Regina turns away to hide her real pain and anger from the one person in this castle who probably understands it the most. After a moment she hears Snow’s sigh from behind her. The Princess has stood up from the chair and is now close – too close for Regina’s liking – and Regina’s breath hitches in her throat because she doesn’t want Snow to touch her. She’s still disgusted with herself and even though Snow didn’t see Regina’s state and the mess in the royal bedchambers this morning, Regina can’t forget the disturbing feeling of not being able to control her body. She’s her body’s and her mind’s worst enemy and she can’t stand having anyone close to her.

But instead of reaching her hands to touch her like before, instead of making more ruthless attempts to give her hope, Snow only says “Can you make me another apple pie?”

Regina is stunned. She looks back at Snow, letting her see her tear stained face without realizing it. Snow gasps. Regina swallows her emotions quickly and straightens her back.

“Will you at least think about it?” Snow asks.

Regina knows that she’s not talking only about the pie.

“I don’t know,” she replies truthfully.

**::::::**

Robin walks beside David, carrying his sleeping son in his arms, the boy’s head resting on his shoulder.

By the time Robin and Roland were back in the dining room, the Merry Men had disappeared, so the boy had to stay there while his father talked with David about lost apples and endless probabilities of what might have happened. Roland asked to be in his father’s arms the moment the three of them stood up to leave the room, and that’s where he fell asleep only minutes later, halfway through their way to their sleeping chambers. And that’s when Robin decided to follow David to the royal corridors to see if Snow had managed to talk with the Queen.

Robin knows that Roland is already in a peaceful deep sleep and keeps holding him, just for a few more minutes, until he makes sure that Regina is alright. He can feel that David doesn’t quite get why he’s concerned about the Queen’s well-being, but he accepts it, asking no awkward questions, only looks at Robin full of curiosity.

They stop in front of what Robin learns is the door of Snow White’s and David’s bedchambers. David tells him that Regina’s door is just down the corridor, a long dark corridor with only a couple of torches lit and a window at the far end. More doors can be seen left and right, and Robin assumes that most of those rooms are empty. He knows that the majority of the castle’s residents stay in the lower floors.

Snow is not inside the couple’s bed chambers and the two men exchange a glance full of worry before they see her come towards them, feet quick and face full of emotion as she approaches her husband and sinks into his embrace. Robin feels like an intruder in the loving moment, but he has to know what happened, so he asks about Regina.

“She’s alright,” Snow says, and then she looks back and forth between David and Robin, before she continues “I mean, she hasn’t done anything stupid, just… She is hurting and that makes her doubt that there is any hope left for her.”

Snow looks at Robin and it feels like she’s apologizing on Regina’s behalf. But she doesn’t need to do that, not with Robin.

“Will she be alright for now?” Robin asks.

“I think so. For now,” Snow replies with an exhausted sigh, seemingly shaken up by whatever took place inside the Queen’s chambers.

“What about the apples?” David asks.

Snow gives him a questioning look before she says “She has them in her room. I have no idea if she’ll use them.”

Robin thinks he sees tears forming in Snow’s eyes and he wonders about Snow and Regina’s past. It’s not his place to ask, especially not right now, so he remains curious about their obviously complicated history.

There’s not really much else they can say, so they retreat to their respective bedrooms. Robin finally puts Roland to bed, the boy shifting only a little when his father tucks him in and kisses his forehead.

Robin falls asleep with concern that’s ridiculously serious considering he doesn’t really know the Queen. But he’s seen enough of her to know her pain is powerful and the thought of what he would have done if he had lost Roland keeps nagging him and makes him want to help, comfort, support.

**::::::**

Regina is sitting on the chair Snow vacated about an hour ago. She craved these alone moments, but now that she has them she once again wishes that she didn’t feel that lonely.

She has made her decision. She’s going to leave. First thing in the morning, before anyone goes to the dining hall for breakfast, before anyone can see her and stop her, she’s going to go away from this world she has no place in.

She eyes the corner with the apples and considers leaving them in the main kitchen, because her heart clenches at the thought of her favorite red fruit remaining stacked in the corner and dying. She imagines Granny and the Dwarves getting suspicious and angry if they see them in the kitchen. But Regina won’t be there for that.

She wants to be mad at them, mad at what everyone believes about her, but she can’t blame them, and she’s so tired of being mad. So she’s going to do them a favor, do herself a favor as well, and leave.

She walks out of her door a few minutes later, another decision thoughtfully made. She’s going to talk to Snow. Despite their differences, Snow has tried to help her and she hasn’t given up on her. Regina doesn’t understand why Snow treats her like that, but she knows that she deserves at least that, a goodbye. And maybe she can even accept the apples and decide what to do with them later.

Regina stands outside the Charmings’ door and tries to hear something, anything that would tell her if they’re inside or not, if they’re sleeping or awake. But she knows that their bed chambers are almost as big as hers, and if they’re deep inside she might not hear anything. She has to knock.

The moment her knuckles make contact with the wood she hears a sob. She glances up and down the corridor, trying to detect the source of the sound. She sees no one.

She walks to the opposite direction of where she came from and realizes that there are voices coming from the King’s old bed chambers. She pauses outside the room, the half closed door and the darkness hiding the King’s possessions. Regina is grateful because she doesn’t want to see any of it.

She can hear everything though. The sobs are definitely Snow’s and the gentle voice that tries to comfort her belongs to Charming.

“I feel so helpless,” Snow says in a watery voice. “I don’t know what to do. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. And I miss Emma so much. So much.”

There’s shuffling behind the door and Snow’s crying becomes muffled.

Regina stands unmoving behind the door. She knows she shouldn’t be there; eavesdropping doesn’t feel right. But Snow’s words are stuck into her mind and she can’t shake the uneasy feeling they give her while hearing David’s attempts to soothe his distressed wife.

“No, David. It won’t be okay. We’ll never see Emma again, _never_. And I just…”

Whatever Snow wanted to say next is lost in her uncontrollable sobs, and Regina wants to enter the room – despite her vow to never get in there again – and be the one to whisper soothing words to her, because she has done it before, when Snow was still a little girl, and this time things are different. This time she doesn’t despise Snow and in this moment she can _feel_ her pain. She is used to always seeing that infuriating sliver of hope in Snow, and hearing her confess her hopelessness to her husband shakes Regina’s determination to leave her behind and not set foot in this castle again. The realization that Snow, the example of hope isn’t that hopeful about her own life anymore is for Regina comforting and devastating at the same time.

“And Regina draws further away with every day that passes. I hate that,” Snow adds after a while.

“You’ve done everything you could, Snow. You can’t approach her if she doesn’t want to be approached. She’s still a cold and heartless person, even after everything that happened. Henry changed that for as long as he was with her, but we can’t,” David says.

Suddenly Regina is furious. David doesn’t have the right to say any of that. Regina knows he understands Snow’s pain, he can feel it, too, but he definitely doesn’t understand _her_ pain. Maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe he’ll never understand. But Regina doesn’t care. Her only thought as she’s walking away from the door is to do what David apparently couldn’t do for his wife: make her feel better. So she does the first thing that comes to her mind; she grabs a few apples and, making sure she’s quiet while passing outside of the King’s bed chambers, she heads to her secret kitchen.

She doesn’t meet anyone on the way there and for the umpteenth time she wonders where all the guards are. Someone should be in every corridor all the time, making sure any attacks are prevented.

Preparing the pies relaxes Regina and the feeling is unexpected but welcome. She remembers the reason why she started baking pies a few days ago, because this is familiar, it gives her a melancholic reminder of _home_ , and even though she can’t have the person who makes anywhere feel like home, she’ll at least have this for a couple of hours.

While waiting for the pies to be baked she sits down and thinks. She sees some things in a new light and feels her decision wavering in doubt. Snow’s words still haunt her thoughts and the nagging feeling the lack of guards caused won’t leave her mind. She imagines the Charmings being too focused on their grief to rule the kingdom properly and maybe that’s why Snow wanted her to help them.

Regina ruled an entire kingdom for years, a kingdom that consisted of people who didn’t agree with her and her ways. Then she found a way to be the perfect Mayor in an entirely new world, making Storybrooke an ideal small town that had every convenience its residents needed. No difficult situation affected her years as the Queen and as the Mayor. The only time she neglected her duties was when she was tortured and then when her son was taken away from her.

Her grief wouldn’t stop her from being a proper leader if she wanted to be one again. But does she want to? Does she want to enter that world of bureaucracy and responsibility about every human being in the entire kingdom?

She’s angry with herself again, because she’s been here for weeks and she hasn’t done anything. Instead of taking the responsibilities that are rightfully hers, she let Snow and Charming take control of her kingdom, and Regina is surprised that there haven’t been any slips, any attacks. She doesn’t blame them though, and that makes her even angrier. They’ve had enough in their minds, daughter and grandson both in another world without their memories, and still they tried to rule as best as they could. She knows she’s better than them and by the time the pies are ready Regina is contemplating taking matters in her own hands and showing them how to lead properly.

In her rush to get to the kitchen, she didn’t pay attention to the amount of apples she took with her. It turned out that they were enough for a whole pie and another small one which she keeps for herself. She eats it greedily, its taste a sweet relief to the bitterness of her life. The apple she had earlier almost made her sick several times throughout the evening, but the baked good feels considerably lighter in her stomach.

Regina moves through the castle’s corridors and passages with a fresh warm pie on her hand and when she halts in front of the council chamber’s open door, what she sees inside assures her that she has to change her initial decision. The Evil Queen's banners – her own banners – still decorate the room, making it clear that the kingdom is still hers.

She’s going to stay.

At least until she brings the kingdom to a condition that she finds acceptable. She’s going to stay and help Snow and David, relieve them of the duties that shouldn’t be theirs. She’s going to stay for Snow, because no mother should go through what she and Snow have been through, and the least Regina can do to help is be someone she never wanted to be: the Queen.

**::::::**

In the next morning Regina gets her period. She wakes up earlier than she wanted, cramps not letting her body get the sleep it needs. It’s almost noon, but she has become so used to sleeping to forget, and sleeping because she had no strength to do anything else, that being awake when the sun is so high up on the sky feels strange.

She makes a move to sit up, and winces in pain and shame as her uterus convulses and her blood flows and drops on her white sheets. Getting up, she curses the universe because this is pointless, her body’s once natural function is now meaningless since she can’t conceive a child. Her insides can't nurture a baby, but still she bleeds every month; a reminder that she's alive, but not living.

Regina remembers the last time it happened. She was still in Storybrooke, before they had to go to Neverland, at a time when she couldn’t imagine that she would have to leave her home and her son. That was only a few weeks ago, but it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Regina makes the blood stain disappear from the bed with a wave of her hand , but she knows that in order to keep the sheet and her clothes clean for the next few days she'll need something more. This time she misses Storybrooke for an entirely different reason which is tampons and even disposable pads. Regina has been in the Enchanted Forest for less than a month and every time she discovers that another habit, another convenience of that other realm appears in her everyday life, it surprises her. She was supposed to have cursed her enemies and everyone around them in a life or misery and what she gave them instead was modern educational and health systems, indoor plumbing, showers and tampons. And right now she would kill to have the latter.

Before Regina cast the curse, she had her servants do everything for her. However, after three decades of being the only one to clean after herself, after having raised a little boy with all the smelly and colorful surprises a little boy can master, she discovers that she’s being disgusted at the thought of other people knowing everything about her body and taking care of her personal hygiene for her. Besides, there aren’t even servants anymore. Regina isn’t aware of what her old servants do now that they’re back in this castle.

Holding her jug of rainwater on her hands, she transfers herself to the fabric room, a spacious room near the main kitchen, where her seamstress used to make the Queen’s dresses. Letting out a sigh of relief that the room is empty, Regina gets to work and she doesn’t lift her head until she finishes. The sewing machine is old and different from the one she learnt how to use in Storybrooke, but it doesn’t take her long to learn this one as well.

It's early in the evening when Regina has several cloth pads ready and she’s pleased with the result. She wonders how every other woman deals with her natural bodily functions in this castle, but she dismisses the thought, surprised that the convenience of other people apart from Henry – and maybe Snow – crossed her mind. When did she care about anyone else’s happiness anyway?

It's almost time for dinner and Regina gets ready. She wears a dark gown with a corset that’s showing a generous amount of cleavage, with shiny bits adorning the part that holds her breasts in place. A delicate dress jacket hides the parts the gown underneath leaves uncovered, her arms and shoulders, and half of her back. The jacket’s buttons allow her cleavage to be visible in its entirety, its purple fabric is decorated with flower designs while its collar is standing tall behind her neck. She finishes the look with a diamond necklace and an elegant hair updo.

It’s the outfit she wore the day she gave Snow the poisoned apple after she told her the truth about what had happened to Daniel. Regina remembers every moment of that day vividly and she imagines that Snow remembers, too. No one will understand the significance of something as mundane as one of the Evil Queen's dresses. Everyone will just see her, the Queen, and they won’t realize that she's wearing this outfit as a way to have some kind of catharsis for that iconic moment of the past.

**::::::**

When Regina reaches the ground floor it sounds like every resident of the castle is in the dining hall. Vivid discussions and laughter come from the open doors, as well as the familiar clatter of silverwear and ceramic plates. A wonderful scent, a combination of cooked vegetables and fresh bread reaches Regina's nostrils and she realizes that she’s starving. As if on cue her stomach growls and she's sure that if the voices inside the room weren’t that loud they would be able to hear it. She feels frustration bubbling up inside her again, about letting herself come to this point and about not caring that this is who she's become, this person who is close to not being a person anymore.

Her stomach growls again, painfully this time, and Regina vows that from now on she won’t let an entire day pass without eating anything. But how can she start having her regular habits again? Can she actually become her real self again? Who is her real self? And how can she be her when the worst part of her, the Evil Queen, is the one threatening to appear whenever she interacts with other people?

Thoughts and questions swirl in her mind and it takes her a moment to realize that every pair of eyes is turned towards her. They’re staring at her, all of them. All Regina can see is contempt and disapproval, all she can feel is their hatred. Or maybe it’s hers?

Regina takes a few steps until she's inside the dining hall. Their eyes watch her every move and she can hear everyone’s breathing as a collective huffing of air in the stillness of the room.

Regina's free hand, the one that’s not holding the pie, feels sweaty and clumsy and she wipes it subconsciously on her dress (the next moment she cringes internally because that was a habit of the young innocent girl she once used to be, not hers). And it’s not like her to feel self-conscious and exposed, but that’s all she is under their gaze. It's the second time she's felt it in the last month, and she doesn’t understand where that vulnerability is coming from. The first time was almost a month ago – it feels like it was years ago – when she returned from Neverland with Henry, his entire rescue mission and the Lost Boys. Regina remembers standing at the docks surrounded by people, but feeling so lonely. Maybe that’s why she feels it now, she thinks. Because she’s again surrounded by people, and half of them look at her with distain and fear, some of them even ready to attack – she could swear that she saw the Merry Men automatically making a move to touch their dirks on each of their belts. And that’s what’s different from that time at the docks. That time they just ignored her until Snow called her name –

“Regina,” Snow says, breaking the loaded silence.

Snow sits at the other end of the dining hall, but even from afar Regina can see the woman’s inviting smile. She might not understand why Snow insists on helping her find her way into hope, but this time she'll embrace the awkward familiarity her presence provides. Regina straightens her back and keeps her head up high while she's pacing through the room, passing in between the tables and ignoring the whispers around her.

Once she’s closer to Snow’s table, Regina notices the thief, the leader of the hostile men who want to call themselves “merry”, and her pace halts momentarily. The fact that he's not sitting with his men distracts her; what is he doing next to Snow? Regina decides that it's not her business, but the next realization hits her when she sees the little boy – Roland – sitting comfortably on his father's lap.

Regina narrows her eyes and looks at the scene in front of her suspiciously, her gaze going from the boy up to his father, and her eyes lock with the thief's eyes. She can’t quite read his expression. It shows the same understanding quality it showed both of the times she met him in the castle, so Regina prefers to keep those confusing thoughts out of her mind; she already has enough things to worry about.

But as she starts walking again, her gaze now fixed to Snow whose smile she can see clearly now, she can’t help but wonder why this man – Robin – didn’t make a move to defend his son and himself like his people seemed to be doing. Isn’t he afraid of the person she used to be?

**::::::**

Robin watches her walk towards their table, the Queen who looked at him in surprise and doubt a few seconds ago. He can tell that she doesn’t feel as confident as she looks, something she wouldn’t admit, maybe not even to herself. But Robin knows how to read people, it’s his compassionate nature that allows him to do so, especially when it’s someone in need. And this woman needs to believe again, first in herself and then in having a second chance. Robin doesn’t know how it will happen, but he’s determined to help her.

He glances at his son and the look of wonder in the boy’s eyes makes Robin melt. Roland is clutching his stuffed monkey – he hasn’t left it since Regina gave it to him after she saved him – and looking at the apple pie in Regina’s hand with a hint of craving that makes Robin chuckle.

Robin turns to look at the Queen again. She’s now by the table, her eyes fixed on Snow White. For a few minutes the two women stare at each other, not in a hostile manner, but not in a friendly one either. They just stare and stare, and the people around them don’t dare to move a muscle. Even his little boy stays silent, his usual babbling having died down the moment some of Robin’s men made a move to withdraw their dirks – Robin didn’t fail to notice that.

“Nice dress.”

Snow’s voice breaks the tense silence once again.

And he’s afraid, Robin is suddenly afraid of Regina’s reaction. Not because he thinks she’s going to snap and start hurting Snow and everyone else, but because he has a feeling the wrong word might make her pull back and never interact with anyone again. The anticipation is killing him and he wonders if anyone else is having thoughts similar to his or if they’re afraid of the Evil Queen.

And then the air in the room changes, because Snow gives Regina a genuine smile and Regina smiles back. It’s a small thing, an upwards curve of her lips that doesn’t change any of her other facial features and Robin notices because she’s standing close to where he sits, only Snow between them. But the smile is still there, unfaltering and genuine, and Robin thinks he sees a mutual agreement taking place between Queen and Princess, years of a tense relationship starting to resolve with simple acts right before his eyes.

Regina lowers the pie and leaves it on the table in front of Snow. Robin feels Roland move forward in his arms and chuckles, his son’s eagerness to eat more apple pie warming and amusing.

It seems that Robin was louder than he thought, because in the next moment Regina turns to him, a glare fixed on her face in contrast of the smile she had just for Snow a few seconds ago.

“What’s so funny, thief?” she asks and Robin actually wouldn’t blame his men if they prepared to attack right now, because Regina is seething, her rage evident in her posture and face which only he and some others that are close can see. But Robin knows better, he knows she won’t do anything to hurt them, he can see it in her eyes that hold uncertainty and a bit of weakness.

“I think this little one can’t wait to taste the fresh apple pie, your Majesty,” Robin replies simply, wanting to only state the truth.

Once the words are out of his mouth, Regina looks down at Roland and her gaze softens. The throbbing angry vein on her forehead gives its place to a frown, and Robin sees Regina looking at Snow again. A dreamy expression rests on Snow’s face while she’s looking at the pie, and Robin wants to release another chuckle, but holds it inside.

Regina sighs and turns to look at Robin. “Roland can have some of Snow’s pie,” Regina says, and directs a small smile to Roland this time. This one is different, it’s filled with lost affection and nostalgia.

“If she lets him,” Regina adds, looking back at Snow, her tone teasing, and it’s such a refreshing thing after everyone’s foul mood during Regina’s entrance to the dining hall.

Snow’s head snaps up and she lets out a giggle.

“Of course Roland can have some!” Snow exclaims.

Roland’s answering grin is huge.

“In fact, who else wants to share? I think Regina has enough apples for at least a dozen more apple pies,” Snow says with a wink that makes Regina roll her eyes.

“You know making apple pies is not my job, right?” Regina asks with an annoyed glare as she reaches for a knife. She cuts the pie in pieces as even as she can and takes one to put on Roland’s plate. She hesitates and stops her movements, her hand that’s holding the pie hovering above the plate. “Have you had all your dinner?” she asks Roland, and the boy nods emphatically, his head going up and down against Robin’s chest. The sensation makes Robin giddy, his son’s small body melting against his while there’s this woman who almost talks to him like a mother, no doubt missing her own son and reacting subconsciously to his boy’s needs.

Regina’s eyes fall on the fruit around the table and she must see they were having desert, so she probably finds it appropriate to give Roland some pie now. She places the piece on his plate and her eyes widen in realization. She turns to look at Robin apologetically and he knows what she’s thinking. She had no right to decide whether or not Roland should have the apple pie right now, but Robin can’t bring himself to mind after seeing the brief interaction between boy and Queen. Robin nods; just a simple movement of his head, but it has the desired effect on Regina. The worry in her eyes dissipates, only sadness for what she lost remaining there.

With an excited squeal Roland grabs a handful of pie and brings it to his mouth, some crumps falling on the monkey. Regina’s eyes dart downwards and stay on the stuffed animal for a moment. She then turns to leave, but Robin won’t have that, not without trying first.

“Regina,” he says at the same moment Snow does. Robin and Snow look at each other and Regina stops.

“What?” Regina asks quietly, without turning towards them.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Robin asks softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Regina looks down for a moment, apparently contemplating the offer. When she turns to look at the three of them again it’s with determination and finality.

“No. Have a good night,” she says before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

**::::::**

It’s less than an hour later that Robin finds Regina at her personal balcony. He tentatively goes through the door, knowing that it’s her place and he shouldn’t be there. But he’s brought her food; he couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone, always alone, tired and hungry.

He stops once he enters the yard, not wanting to disturb her quiet time, considers going back before she realizes he’s there. She has her back turned towards the castle’s grounds, her head high to gaze at either the tree branches or the night sky, Robin can’t guess which the case is.

“I was always so proud of my apple tree,” Regina says, her voice echoing in the quietness of the night.

Robin jumps at the sudden intrusion to his thoughts. _It’s the tree then_ , he thinks and since there’s no reason to keep hiding now, he takes a few more steps towards her.

Regina’s head turns so fast and the first thing Robin notices is the alarmed look in her eyes. He doesn’t notice the fireball in her palm until realization hits her and Robin only glances at her hand when the last remnants of the flame disappear.

“I thought you were Snow,” Regina says, with a breathless quality in her voice, and Robin understands that that’s why she started talking to him, because she didn’t know it was him.

“And then you walked closer and I knew it was someone else and…” Regina continues, letting her voice trail.

Robin nods. He knows what she means. “If they looked at me like that, I would certainly keep my eyes and ears open,” he says, referring to the way the majority of the castle residents acted when Regina entered the dining hall.

“I can’t say that I blame them,” Regina says.

“The past is in the past, Regina. Since you’ve come here you haven’t done anything to harm them.”

“Actually I haven’t done anything at all.”

Robin raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s not true,” he says, because she shouldn’t believe that no one acknowledges what she did for them. “Only hours after we met, you saved my son from that flying monkey. Not only that, but you made him less afraid of those beasts by giving him a new toy that looked like them. And then you lowered the protection spell to let everyone come to _your_ castle safely.” Robin sees that Regina is about to interrupt him, but before she does he continues. “It doesn’t matter if you had your own reasons to come here. You wouldn’t apply the sleeping curse to yourself before lowering the protection spell, I know that.”

Regina looks at him with glassy eyes, her expression similar to the one she had that night when she told him about her son and the eternal middle she was determined to put herself in.

Regina shakes her head. “Whatever I do, they’ll never trust me,” she says with pained acceptance shadowing her voice. “And they shouldn’t trust me,” she adds, her expression now reminding Robin of the way she acted after Zelena revealed herself to her. He thinks that in moments like those he gets a glimpse of the Evil Queen, but Regina now looks so exhausted, because of what life has given her and because of not taking proper care of herself, and Robin wishes he could see a spark of happiness in her eyes, even for just a second, instead of the darkness she sometimes can’t hide.

Robin doesn’t voice everything that’s on his mind and decides to change the subject in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I brought you something to eat,” he says.

Oh, how many things he wants to say to her. But he knows what she did tonight, appearing with the apple pie in front of everyone, was the first step, a crucial step she had to take, and tonight isn’t the night to make her feel pressured.

**::::::**

Of course Robin doesn’t know that even the sight of the cooked vegetables stresses Regina; its smell enticing even now that the food isn’t warm, but it makes her insides turn, though the need for self-preservation kicks in. She wants to punch this need, to beat it and make it suffer, but in the end she is the one who suffers instead. She doesn’t want to take care of herself when she knows that there were moments she couldn’t take care of her own child. She knows that she was a good mother, remembers moments like the one she had with Roland earlier happening more often than not while she was raising Henry, but she lied to him, she did horrible things even after Henry found out about her, and only when she lost him did she realize what she had done.

_You’re not a villain. You’re my mom._

Henry’s words still echo in her head and she can’t take it anymore, because all she does and all she says remind her of him, and she wants that to stop. From the day that she arrived in the Enchanted Forest she's known one way to do that, to temporarily alleviate the pain. Without giving it a second thought, she does what she's done almost every night for the last few weeks; she dips her hand in her chest and circles her fingers around the pulsating organ, preparing for the usual excruciating tug that goes with the strings of her heart getting detached from her body.

The next moment finds her dizzy and breathless. She is sitting on the balcony floor, dress rumbled and heels sticking into her buttocks, and fat tears are blurring her vision. Robin is crouching in front of her. His hand is on her elbow, not applying any pressure, not pulling, just staying there, grounding her. She doesn’t quite understand how they got in that position; her mind is in a haze and her body feels numb.

Her senses come back slowly and Robin’s touch is what keeps her connected to the world. As quickly as she had put her hand in her chest, she pulls it out, Robin’s hand moving along with hers. Regina lets the tears fall and she immediately regrets it, because Robin’s eyes are locked in hers and apart from confusion she also sees compassion in them, and she doesn’t think she deserves it.

Robin’s fingers slowly brush a few inches of her arm before he withdraws his hand. Regina realizes with surprise that she doesn’t mind his hand touching her.

Robin pushes the plate against her upwards turned palms, not letting it go when he sees she doesn’t attempt to hold it.

“Eat,” he says in a soft voice, and Regina thinks that it’s probably how he talks to Roland and she hates it when people talk to her like that, like she’s a petulant child who can’t take care of herself.

The plate is now too close to her and it’s like it has a mind of its own, pushing her into a trap. But she knows she has things to do the next day, she has decided that she’s going to start ruling her kingdom again, so she has to do this, too.

She takes the plate from the thief’s hands. She sees a smirk appearing on his face and it infuriates her.

“Now leave!” she says a little more harshly than she intended.

The smirk doesn’t leave the thief’s face and that makes Regina even more annoyed. But then it dawns on her that right at that moment she feels more alive than she’s felt since she arrived in the Enchanted Forest. A sensation close to the way she felt when Snow smiled at her this evening, but yet more powerful.

Instead of doing what he was told, Robin sits down beside her, resting his back on the ledge that is around the apple tree.

“Did Snow send you?” Regina asks after sitting in silence for a while.

“No,” Robin replies quickly.

Regina turns to look at him. She examines his face suspiciously, trying to notice anything that would betray a lie. She only sees the same understanding gaze he usually gives her.

Robin is about to say something – he looks like he’s trying to decide how he’ll say it – and Regina frowns, afraid that she was wrong and he is indeed hiding the truth.

“Snow wasn’t that pleased when I told her I wanted to bring you dinner. She insisted on doing it herself,” Robin says with an easy smile.

Regina’s frown deepens. _That was it?_ And why did Robin care about her well-being?

Suddenly she remembers something.

“Where was David?” Regina asks. “I didn’t see him at dinner…”

“And that brings me to what I was going to say next. I convinced Snow to go and take care of David instead of coming to you,” Robin says, and when he sees worry etching its way into Regina’s features, he continues “It’s just a flu, but he had a fever this afternoon and he decided not to come to dinner.”

Regina nods in understanding. A series of thoughts about the steps Regina the Mayor would take at the beginning of the flu season – flu shots, fliers about prevention and relief, making sure Henry was alright – occupy her mind and she knows that in this realm there’s not much she can do. No flu shots, no antibiotics. In this world even the common flu could kill you.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet,” Robin says, looking down at Regina’s full plate.

Regina moves at her spot on the floor until she finds a more comfortable position, fixes her dress and takes the first spoonful of vegetables. It falls heavily in her stomach; she can feel it even before it descends. But she takes one more bite, and then another one, determined to regain some of her strength and go through with her plan tomorrow.

And when Robin asks her if she’ll tell him about her tree, Regina ignores him and keeps eating.

“Maybe another night,” he says, and she instantly agrees, but she doesn’t admit it to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The dinner scene would be quite different if it wasn't for the manip Jen (starscythe) made for me on tumblr. She chose the dress Regina was wearing in the manip and that's how I had the idea to use the same dress, and the rest of the scene unfolded after that.


End file.
